Strictly Business
by MojoKnickKnack
Summary: When Mareth looked back on it, he decided that the incident that really changed everything was Luxa breaking his favorite sword, which had driven him to finding a nanny. Howard would say the day he talked to his sister's sword fighting teacher was the day his life changed. And Gregor and Luxa would blame Mr. Ripred.


Mareth

Mareth had not had a good day. Pretty awful was more accurate. It hadn't started out badly, but it had taken a turn for the worst when he came home. About a year ago, Mareth's sister and her husband had been bitten by rabid rats while helping to clean up a decrepit old neighborhood and had died. They had had two children. Both had fallen into his care, as he was the only living relative they had. And he loved them both dearly. Had always loved visiting them or having them over for a few days; he even had three extra bedrooms for their use. The trouble was, he didn't exactly know what to do with them now that they were exclusively under his care. Luxa, the older of the siblings, had assured him that she could handle herself and her little brother, Hazard. She'd been thirteen then, and Mareth had decided that that was probably old enough to be left to her own devices. Of course, he hadn't just left them to do whatever, he still fed them and helped with homework (and made sure they did it), and did family things with them. But he had to work quite a bit to support the two children that had entered his life. He was a skilled swordsman, and had started a school for it, giving sword lessons to anyone who wanted them. And so, he had made the decision to leave Luxa and Hazard without a babysitter. And now he was really regretting that decision.

Mareth now sat with his head in his hands, Luxa sitting across from him, shifting in her seat with discomfort. He'd expected at least a little shame or regret, but was met with an aloof expression that conveyed complete and utter annoyance. He sighed and counted to ten, willing himself not to lose his temper. But it was a hard task.

"Luxa," he started, "You do remember that that was my favorite sword, correct?"

"Yes," Luxa said after a pause.

"Do you remember me asking you not to take it out? Not to touch it?" he asked with exaggerated patience.

"Yes," Luxa huffed indignantly. You'd think she felt offended that he thought her a child without the capability to hear.

"May I ask why, then, did you take it out of its case? And why, in holy hell, did you think slamming it into the side of the house would be an appropriate activity?"

More huffing came from Luxa before she answered, "It is not _my_ fault that your sorry excuse of a sword is so feeble. I thought that, with the way you cherish the thing, it would actually be able to withhold such a light impact. I thought it must be impressive. It was not. Snapped like a toothpick. Pathetic."

"Are you really trying to turn you destroying one of my prized possessions into my fault?"

"Certainly not. I am simply saying that I am the one who ought to be let down because of the poor performance of that hunk of rust."

"It has not been used for fighting in many years. I have told you this. It is very old and means very much to me. I have told you this also. Several times. I cannot understand why you ignored this and destroy it."

"It was merely quality control! I will remember this the next I try to do something nice for you. Sheesh."

"Luxa. Do not. Just, please, do not say another word. I must ask that you go to your room, and stay there while I make arrangements for a nanny to come look after you."

"A nanny? You plan on getting me a babysitter?!" Luxa screamed.

"Not another word from you missy! Go!"

"I will not! I will not have this kind of treatment, Mareth, I WILL NOT! I am far too old for a babysitter!"

"You have proven to me that you are not to be trusted alone. Now, to your room," Mareth insisted. But Luxa's screams did not cease. He felt on the verge of shouting himself. So he scooped the flailing girl up and deposited her in her room before he blew, slamming the door behind him.

"I AM A QUEEN, MARETH, A QUEEN! NO QUEEN NEEDS A BABYSITTER!" Luxa screeched, the thick wooden door doing nothing to silence her.

Oh, yes. A queen. One of the many things that made Luxa so difficult to deal with. She _was_ a queen. Of a small country called Regalia, but she was not yet of age to rule, and as she still needed a guardian, and the only one available to her lived in New York City, she did as well. And she brought up the fact that she was a queen often. Trying to order Mareth around because of it. But it never did her any good with him. And now he needed to find a nanny that would be up to looking after her. This was not going to be easy.

It was not easy. In fact, it had been even harder than Mareth had thought to find a nanny that was suitable and willing to work such long hours as well as put up with a child as difficult as Luxa. He'd give up, except for the fact that it would make Luxa feel as if she had won. Mareth had learned early on that he had to follow through with every single promise or threat he made to that girl. But he had had to put the search on hold, as the weekend soon passed and he was needed back at the academy. Monday morning sessions were the worst. Not only because it was Monday morning, but mostly because of Stellovet. Stellovet was worse than Luxa. Possibly because Mareth wasn't required to love her, and possibly because Stellovet was really just that bad. She'd moved to New York a year or so ago, joined his Crossed Swords Academy, and had immediately acted superior to everyone, saying that she'd trained with the _best of the best_ back in her city for years. She was not bad, but Mareth had many students that were more skilled than she. It didn't help that she was pretty and went around causing an uproar (intentionally) because of her looks. And she often started unauthorized duels with other students, and was consequently reprimanded. Mareth was a pretty non-confrontational guy, considering he was a master swordsman, but this was getting out of hand. Pretty soon he'd have to speak with her parents. He went in that morning promising himself that if she made one false move, he'd bring in her parents. And it wasn't long before she'd insulted one of the girls and started a fight. A big one. Emily had to get patched up from it. So Mareth had Stellovet sit out for the rest of the lesson and asked her to bring in her parents after class. But when class ended, Stellovet stomped off to her car.

"Do not forget that I need to see your parents!" Mareth called after her. Stellovet did return, but the man she brought back was much too young to be her father. Hardly even a man, really.

"Hi, I am Stell's older brother, Howard. Nice to meet you, although the circumstances could be nicer," Howard said with a good natured laugh as he extended his hand for Mareth to shake. Mareth was wary of anything Stellovet touched, but Howard seemed nice enough. Mareth didn't know what to say, as he had asked to meet the girl's parents, but Howard, seeing his confusion, explained, "Sorry, but our parents are visiting my sick grandmother, so I am as close as you can get to a parental figure at the moment."

"Ah. Yes. That is fine. I hope your grandmother recovers soon. Anywhoo, your sister has become a serious problem in my classroom. More than serious, a health risk, honestly. She constantly reduces others to tears, and starts fights. Fights of any kind - fistfights, sword fights, hurtful arguments. She has maimed two other students. I am afraid that she may soon send someone to the hospital."

"I see. Well, this has gotten out of hand, has it not?" Howard turned to Stellovet.

She returned his gaze with sticking her tongue out and glaring at the floor. "Stellovet, this is a problem. You cannot go around hurting people. I had no idea you were wreakingso much havoc! If I hear of one more incident like this, I will be advising Mother and Father to pull you out of this class. I know how much you love being a swordswoman, so do not screw this up."

"You would not dare!" Stellovet snarled. But, unlike every student in her class, Stellovet evoked no fear in Howard.

"The deal was, if I remember correctly, that you may sword fight if you play nicely and fairly. I have a good memory. And I would not call maiming two kids playing nicely or fairly."

"Oh boo hoo! Two people got a little hurt. It'll help them toughen up," snapped Stellovet.

"I suggest you go wait in the car while I finish up here," Howard's words were firm but calm. And, to Mareth's amazement, she did. "I am very sorry about her. I will be having a talk with her and my parents later about her behavior. And, could you tell me if she steps out of line again?"

"Of course. Not a problem. How should I contact you in the future?" Mareth asked as Howard started to follow his sister out the door.

"Do you have something to write with?" Mareth led Howard to his small office, collecting a pen and paper and handing them to Howard. He scribbled his number on a corner of the paper and handed it back to Mareth.

"Thank you, Howard."

"No, thank _you_ for dealing with Stellovet… It has occurred to me that I do not know your name."

"Please forgive me, I do not know how it slipped my mind. I am Mareth, and it is no trouble about Stellovet," Howard raised an eyebrow at him as he said this, "Well, yes, it is trouble. But I have a girl around her age that is just as much trouble, so I understand."

"You have a daughter Stell's age?" Howard looked alarmed.

"Niece, but I take care of her," Mareth laughed.

"Oh," Howard let out a laugh now, too, "I thought for a moment that you were either much older than you look or had a kid when you yourself were Stell's age."

"Neither likely. I have been told I look old for my age and do not have the time to find a wife and start a family. Yet I ended up with two kids anyway."

"Do you mind me asking what happened to their parents?"

"Died. Last year."

"I am sorry. I cannot imagine how hard it must be trying to single handedly raise two kids who are upset over their loss, while you must be upset about your loss as well."

"It could be easier. I have been looking for a nanny for them, but Luxa is infamous amongst them from her earlier years."

"Luxa? You do not mean the Luxa? The one that is a queen?"

"The very same. I suppose you would know of her, being Stellovet's brother."

"Indeed. I have never met her, but Stell rants about her for hours. They do not get along."

"Not a bit," Mareth agreed, "Rivals for certain, and it caused me so much trouble to have them in one class that I have switched to giving Luxa private lessons."

"Is that what happened? Stellovet will furious when I tell her, she thinks she scared Luxa off."

"Not likely," Mareth barked a laugh at the idea.

"That is what I thought when she told me. You said you were looking for a nanny?"

"Yes, and I told Luxa I would be finding one, and now, if I do not, she will think she won. She will never respect my threats again. I will lose any semblance of authority with her."

"I have wanted to meet the girl that makes Stellovet so angry very much. And honestly, I'm looking for a job. I just graduated high school and I'm taking a year off before I start college."

"Well! We seem to have a perfect situation here. I will give you a call to set a time?"

"Sounds great! I cannot wait."

"You might change your mind after meeting Luxa, but I have high hopes."

**Mareth and Howard walked out together, each getting into his own car. Mareth's face broke into a huge grin. He had found a nanny! And he was actually a nice guy, not a snooty old lady that Mareth was afraid would steal his good silverware. Not to mention, his problems with Stellovet seemed to be at an end. And he would show Luxa just who had won. For once, he had the upper hand. Howard seemed like someone who wouldn't take shit from anyone. If he could handle Stellovet, he could probably handle Luxa. This had turned into a very good day.**


End file.
